Five Words
by Initiate Six
Summary: Five words, five stories. A handful of snapshots into the lives of Spencer and Carly. Spencer/Carly friendship fic


**A/N: So, I have no idea where this came from. I just know that Spencer and Carly interactions just make me smile big, big smiles. Enjoy :D**

**Word One – Pez**

"Spencer," I manage to get out around my shocked curiosity.

"Yes, dearest sister?"

"...What is that?"

There are a few moments of silence as he makes the finishing touches on his latest creation.

"Well," he begins, standing up from his prone position and dusting his pants off, "You know how you guys were trying to figure out how you were going to make a hot air balloon prop for your Spanish Wizard of Oz skit?"

I hesitate before answering, not sure where he's going with this.

"Yeah..."

"I wanted to make you guys the basket part of the hot air balloon, but while I was building it, I got distracted thinking about the yellow brick road and how it looked like it was made of yellow Pez candies, and how the yellow were so much better than the red Pez, and then..." He pauses, looking down at his creation with a sort of affection, spreading his hands out as though presenting a newborn child, "..._this_ happened."

"Of course," I chuckle as I sidle up to him and hug him loosely around his waist.

Only my brother could build a balloon basket out of hundreds of Pez dispensers.

**Word Two – Beach**

It's a standoff. Spencer stands before her with a handful of sea-water soaked mud, looking ready to strike. His body and swim trunks are soaked through, though his hair remains completely dry.

"Spencer..."

"Carly..."

"You know I love you, right?"

"Of course."

"And if, in the course of showing my love for you, I happened to upend a bucket of water on you while you were sunbathing, I would hope you wouldn't hold that against me."

"Why would I ever hold that against you?"

"I dunno. Why do you have a handful of mud?"

"This? It's my pet...mudball..."

There's an instant of silence. Then, action.

Carly lets out a shriek and attempts to dart around Spencer, who suddenly has an ecstatic grin plastered on his face.

Her escape is futile as one of his arms closes tight around her, pulling her in, while the other dumps the whole pile of soggy, salty mud onto her head.

"Okay, you've made your point!" Carly yells, though she's fighting laughter.

"Not quite," her brother responds evilly, "Sam! I need you to help me return this poor suffering fish to the sea!"

At the mention of her name, Sam turns around from her exaggerated posing for Freddie and his new camera. As she takes in the scene before her, a brilliant smile erupts on her face as she sprints over to her best friend.

Amid the shrieking, the laughing, and the half-hearted protests, no one notices Freddie raise his camera, but a week later a new photo hangs happily on the wall of the Shay Loft, Carly being carted off toward the water by Sam and Spencer, all of them alight with laughter.

**Word Three – Hero**

When Carly was given the assignment to write a report on her hero, it only took her a split second to decide that she was going to write about Spencer.

There wasn't a question in her mind that her older brother was perhaps the most heroic person in her life. When her father went to sea shortly after her eighth birthday, her then 21 year old brother stood up to the entire family, fought to be allowed to look after her. He'd been willing to drop everything important to make her happy, to give her a good home.

When she was nine, and she sat crying on the fire escape after Jeff Wilson had torn up her Valentines card, he was the one who swallowed his discomfort at dealing with a crying little girl and sat next to her, offering her silent support as she got over her first love.

When she was eleven and was in the hospital for three days with appendicitis, he was the one who sat by her bed, holding her hand for the entire 72 hours, the bags under his eyes the products of fatigue and worry. It didn't matter that she had a routine illness, and an equally routine surgery, he kept vigil as though they were her last days, and with his strength she was never once scared, not even when she was put under.

But most of all, the things that made Spencer heroic in her eyes were the little things, the things that made up his overall person.

He was funny, he was creative, and he was unabashedly unique. He loved life and loved experiencing everything the world could throw at him. He stood defiant in the worst of times and laughed wholeheartedly in the best of times.

He was the most solid thing in her life, and nothing would change her idea that her brother was perhaps the greatest person alive.

**Word Four – Doubt**

Spencer was a confident person, for the most part. He had never had a self-conscious moment in his life, at least not when it really mattered. The only time he felt doubt, really, was when he looked at Carly.

Ever since he took her in, he'd been terrified out of his mind that he would screw something up. With every birthday that passed, he was sure that he was going to do something, anything, to drive her away or break her. Because he knew that he screwed up sometimes, and the one nightmare that never went away was the one that he would someday lose his little sister.

But any time he had those doubts, he'd ease his way into her room, late at night when the moon would peek through her window and illuminate the room with a soft blue glow. He'd take a seat next to her bed and just watch her for a few minutes, her face peaceful with sleep, hair fanned out on her pillow while she snored softly.

And he'd smile, and for a few minutes he'd know that somehow, he'd done it. He hadn't failed her, and that was the most important thing to him.

**Word Five – Cake**

"Spencer! Sam!" I shouted as I flew down the stairs from my room, remnants of the explosion I'd heard still echoing in my ears. I entered the kitchen to find my brother and my best friend on the floor, covered in overly moist cake and frosting, with more dripping down from the ceiling.

"We're okay!" Spencer said from his position, on his stomach with his hands over his head. It was like he'd jumped away from a grenade.

"What happened?" I asked, concerned, as I helped Sam up. She was definitely okay, I noticed. Once she was on her feet, she took a bite of the cake that had attached itself to her hair with a muttered "chocolate-y".

"Well, Sam and I wanted to make you an awesome birthday cake, so she came over early and helped me make a cake mold out of some spare pans I had laying around, and we both agreed that she should do the actual cooking, because I still haven't figured out why everything I touch bursts into flames, but when we slid the cake out of the oven to check it, it kind of exploded, and I'm sorry we made your cake into a bomb."

It all came out in a rush. He was standing by this point, some cake in his hands with more all over his clothes.

With a huge smile of relief I gathered my brother and Sam into a giant hug, uncaring of the moist remnants of cake on their bodies.

It was in the middle of our little group hug that something occurred to me.

"Spencer."

"Yes?"

"If the cake exploded while you were still cooking it, why is there frosting on the ceiling?"

"Sam and I had a frosting fight."

"Of course you did."


End file.
